Anthony Somoza

8 O' Clock Hearing - Poem by Anthony Somoza

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my 8 o'clock is sweeter, than my 3 o'clock, fore my 3 o'clock hears pain, and the dillusion of lies, the creamping sounds of a released gate, the anguish of betrayal, mixed with sulken laughters, the announcements of raids on holy lands, and sounds of faces being crushed by hands, from the announcement of the departed, now my 3 o'clock slowly dissimates, high above on its mighty place,

worry not for 8 o'clock lies unbroken, gentle from the sounds of the world it stays pure, listening to fading voices that never get through.